


Limens

by antagonists



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6873223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antagonists/pseuds/antagonists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she looks out at the quiet murmur of the clouds, they remind her of the sea and of her forgotten home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jiho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiho/gifts).



> for jiji! tysm for this it was rly fun to write aaaa

*

 

 

They find her on a summer evening when the last traces of sunset begin to fade from uncovered skin. It has been years since the end of the last war, and Ae has not shown her face again until now.

 

Willows drift softly over the lake waters; curious fish come to nibble tenderly at the thin leaves. Up here, in the mountains, where the halo-wreathed peaks silently watch guard, Ae’s molten mana does not belong. Even the long shadows seem to wilt under her feet, unfamiliar with warmth and touch.

 

Ae smiles prettily. She is still distracting with hints of bright ember magic glittering over her dark, dark skin. New scars hide beneath the lingering spells, telling stories where she will not.

 

“You’ve returned,” Jiu says, nonplussed. “You killed the scouts that were to check on you when you first left.”

 

Ae shrugs. “They were unprepared.”

 

“They were in training. There was no need to kill them.”

 

Again, Ae shrugs, and Jiu turns away to look at the rest of the patrol group. Only Tien is a weathered face; the others are still young, still learning their spells and their stances. They have not seen Ae before, and they must be captivated by her beauty. She has always had a rather bewitching quality to her, but Jiu is blind in one eye and callous from the years. Her insensitivity to magic and emotion helps greatly with ignoring charm.

 

Carefully, Tien meets Jiu’s eye and frowns. Back in the village, his husband is likely waiting to prepare dinner for the patrol group, ready to treat them to expensive meats and fruits that cannot be easy to come by. They should return soon or Hiin will worry. He has always had a large and kind heart to match his impressive girth, but even Hiin may not be so welcoming to Ae after so many years. “We’ve been instructed to capture you,” he says slowly, “dead or alive.”

 

“We could kill her,” Jiu suggests, and does not falter at Tien’s mild protest.

 

“The elders would want to record my spells first,” Ae supplies after a moment, filling in the empty space of Jiu’s unfinished statement. “I’d planned on going up without a fight, anyways.”

 

The trainees fidget, pale cloaks pulled over their heads to shroud their young faces. Jiu gives pause to consider their inquiring glances and acquiesces with some reluctance.

 

“Tie her hands. Then blindfold and gag her,” she says. It won’t really do much, since Ae can spin magic into the air without words, but it’ll at least make the younger ones feel safer. Tien approaches her quietly as the trainees rush to work, fumbling with their tying spells in their excitement.

 

“You’re not feeling unwell?” he ventures, grins in relief at her small nod. “I never thought we’d see her again.”

 

“The war did do quite some damage,” Jiu agrees. “It’s unsurprising many left. Still, precautions are necessary since we’re still recovering.”

 

Tien glances over at Ae’s covered eyes and lips, her gentle yet strong poise, then to Jiu’s blank expression, and sighs.

 

“Do keep your mind healthy,” he says, words weaving soothing water onto her skin. “She may try bewitching you again.”

 

“She’s not succeeded even once with me,” Jiu snorts softly. She adjusts the swords at her side and turns back to the path, footsteps steady and guiding on the vague trail up to the skies.

 

 

*

 

 

The sun always rises bright and early here, peeking over the rolling scape of clouds to give them a molten glow. The entire village glows with fire until the sun is well overhead and the streets fill with activity and warmth. Jiu exhales slowly, and a stream of white curls from her lips. She’s never had a problem living in the mountains, even though she’s not born with fiery mana like most of the villagers here. The chill of the morning is refreshing on her face, invigorating, even. When she looks out at the quiet murmur of the clouds, they remind her of the sea and of her forgotten home.

 

“It’s cold,” Ae says from behind her. Jiu turns around to see Ae trudging up the steps to the peak, wrapped in all assortments of furs to keep warm.

 

“It is summertime,” Jiu replies mildly. The towering gravestones around her cast shadows onto the warding sigils. “It would do you well to get accustomed to the cold if you plan on staying here for the time being.”

 

“I’m surprised you didn’t keep me locked up or anything.” Somehow gracefully, Ae seats herself neatly on one of the nearby stones.

 

“Our elder has always had a soft spot for you.”

 

 _And the people think you’re beautiful, too_.

 

It’s something that Jiu has never particularly understood. Up here, she has been taught to be cold and distant like the mountains, learned how to paint her face like a warrior’s as a child. They could have chosen to remain impassive and neutral as they have always done for many of the previous wars, but their current elder had insisted they assist the desert folk. She has seen many a war and watched them from afar, but had been determined to intervene after ceaseless pleas from the south.

 

 _I feel a strong fire coming from the earth_ , the elder had said, age only apparent in her blind eyes. Her mana is gentle, but Jiu knows it is capable of massive destruction. _It is a warmth we should come to know. As people of the winters and of ice, we know little of true springs and summers, of anything outside cold reasoning and feigned peace_.

 

 _You would put our people in danger to chase after dreams? After all these decades of neutrality?_ Jiu had asked. Even now, she is bitter over her dear brother’s death, the memories of his growing heart shattering from an earthen arrow to his chest. She feels as though the battlefields were especially unfair that night.

 

“Her health isn’t looking so great now,” Ae frowns when Jiu bristles. “I don’t mean it in a threatening way. She must have overexerted herself while I was gone.”

 

“She overexerted herself helping _your_ people,” Jiu sneers. She sighs and unfolds her hands, unable to concentrate on prayers now. At the very least, she tries to calm herself down. She may not be capable of casting spells, but she has always had a bad habit of letting her mana flare with her temper. Freezing Ae’s blood is tempting, but not a wise decision.

 

“Yes, your alliance helped us overcome impending invasions. We are still very grateful.” Ae pauses to stare blatantly at Jiu’s blind side, eyes bright and colorful, brilliant with the sunrise glow. Her face softens very slightly. “I love you, you know.”

 

“I’m well aware,” Jiu says. Smoky incense fills her nose, soft and purging. It reminds her of the pungent smell of burning flesh, the severe glow of healing magic and—her distant brother’s grave, stark and small in the vast prayer grounds. “I’ve rejected your feelings multiple times now. Surely you have better things to do?”

 

She leaves Ae to her lonely thoughts and descends the rocky steps to the village, sweeps through the scrolls she’s meant to approve and drafts the letters that will later be delivered by hand. The smooth stroke of ink and brush in her hand calm her somewhat, but do not relieve her of her wartime memories.

 

“I thought you’d be here,” Hiin calls from the doorway. His shadow is large and threatening, but she knows he looks more intimidating than he really is.

 

“Hiin. What time is it?”

 

“Only noon.” Hiin bumps the door shut with his hip, carrying a tray of refreshments. “Tien said he was worried about you, too.”

  
Jiu looks away and leans back in her chair. “I didn’t mean to worry the two of you.”

 

Seating himself awkwardly at the other side of the table, Hiin tries his best to keep his legs situated so his knees won’t bump the underside. He’s always had a rather hard time eating at the same table as other people since he keeps accidentally nudging them with his arms as he eats, and it’s one of his biggest insecurities. Tien often has to reassure Hiin that people don’t hate him.

 

“How long has it been, three years?”

 

“Four,” Jiu says. “The Desertfolk also claimed to be unaware of her whereabouts, so I’m not sure if I should notify them of her return here or not.”

 

“She’s probably just after you,” Hiin says dubiously, munching on the rounded edge of a biscuit. “I mean, she probably confessed to you again, right? You’re always in a sour mood after that happens.”

 

Miffed, Jiu sips at her tea, but does not deny it. “It’s well-known knowledge that I’m not romantically interested in anyone; I wish she would respect that.”

 

“She _can_ be a bit dense,” Hiin agrees. “But I don’t think she means harm; she can just be a bit direct with her affections.”

 

“She thought I was a man for the longest time.” Jiu sniffs and crosses her arms.

 

“A mistake on her part,” Hiin nods. “Though where others continue to address you as a man, she’s acknowledged and accepted you as a woman, has she not?” He smiles at Jiu’s small grumble and extends another biscuit towards her. “You don’t have to accept her feelings or give her a chance, but at least try to be nicer. You are her savior, after all.”

 

“She still killed some of my scouts in training.”

 

Hiin frowns and leans back, then sits up again when the chair creaks beneath his weight. Jiu assures him again that he won’t be able to break anything in her quarters. It has happened before, so she’d gone and reinforced the furniture so he wouldn’t feel bad about it during later visits. “I’m sure she had reasons.”

 

“I’m not going to babysit her,” Jiu insists. “I don’t know what Elder is thinking, allowing her into the village without questioning.”

 

“Perhaps to train some of the younger ones in fire magic? We’re not so efficient at that, here, and she may be a helping hand in creating a new blend of spells.” He pauses to narrow his eyes at her, “maybe to help lessen your burdens, as well. It’s hard to ignore how busy you’ve been. Don’t pretend that you haven’t been taking some of Tien’s night patrols.”

 

Jiu waves her hand exasperatedly. “I’d thought you’d be more opposed to her stay here.”

 

Smiling gently, Hiin does not grant her with a reason to his acceptance. They chat idly about other things, and she’s grateful that he’s helping take her mind off things. He mentions that this summer will be a relatively mild one, being the most attuned to the changes in the air out of everyone in the village. At the very least, this summer will be easier to tolerate than the ones they’d spent on battlefields, delirious and dehydrated. She remembers those battles well—the memory of sweat slipping down her brow, the sunlight harsh and heavy on her skin, the weight of her sword in her bloody palms. The fire in her throat, thirst slaked with remnant enemy rations, surrounding magic like static on her nerves.

 

“Jiu,” Hiin calls softly.

 

She blinks away the endless desert sands and bloody sunsets, looks down at her clenched hands. “Sorry.”

 

“Do you want me to prepare a sleeping tonic for you? Or at least a distracting spell?” he asks.

 

“No, I,” she runs her hands through her hair, feeling the uneven edges on the left side. “I leave at dusk for one of the lower towns. I should get ready.”

 

She feels guilty about shooing him away so quickly, but she also doesn’t want anyone to look at her pityingly or worriedly. After pacing the length of her study for several minutes, Jiu sighs deeply and begins to arrange her belongings. Down the mountain, she will not need the fur garments they need here, so she packs light.

 

When she finally departs, it feels strange to travel without the weight of her winter robes.

 

 

*

 

 

“Commander Jiu, sir,” a scout from the hosting village holds out a sheaf of papers.

 

“I’m a woman,” Jiu corrects gently, and takes the reports from the scout. “How are your supplies so far? I’ve been told that the harvest didn’t fare so well the past few years.”

 

The scout is among one of the few to take her correction with some grace, and there is no change in his voice as he continues his report. Silently, Jiu thanks him; she has seen many worse reactions. “We have had to ration some of the grains, but if summer is kind to us, then we will have surplus for this year’s harvest.”

 

“That’s good to hear.” She frowns at the papers. “You require ore from the mountains?”

 

“To smelt, ma’am. We will use them to create traps and new farming tools.”

 

“I’ll see what we can do. In the meantime, if your village is comfortable with it, you could smelt some of your unused weapons.” At the scout’s hesitance, she adds, “I understand the war has made many people wary, but it is in our best interests to promulgate peace to everyone.”

 

“Understood. If you would like to speak with our Elder, his residence is this way.”

 

In the mountain range, at varying heights, different people have laid claim to the lands and founded small villages. By far, the villages at the bottom of the mountains have the largest populations, diminishing in size the harsher and colder the weather gets. Though Jiu has traveled to many bigger cities from arid, marsh, and neutral climates, she still finds the bustling streets a bit intimidating in comparison to her village at the peak.

 

Stone and grass beneath her feet, cloudy sky and green canopy above, vibrant hues sweeping around her in the shape of tribal skin paints and bright fruits. She explores these colors after her meeting with the Elder of the Forest, walking down the dirt roads in the village to survey the differences.

 

During the war, Jiu hadn’t had the time to pay attention to anything but the swing of her blade, the rush of fear while dodging death. The only bright colors she remembers from that time is fresh blood on the white robes of her warriors. Here, there is peace in the colors that she can see, and it makes her dearly wish that she weren’t blind in one eye.

 

“You seem relaxed,” Ae says suddenly, voice coming from the branches above Jiu’s head.

 

Jiu sighs and keeps her gaze firmly set on the bubbling brook in front of her. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to be here? No one yet knows of your return.”

 

Her words don’t stop Ae from jumping down, long hair leaving behind a flickering trail of ember. She’s dressed in light leather armor, skin dark against the bright greens of the grass. Sheer sleeves cover the mana tattoos on her arms, glittering like desert sand in the sunlight.

 

“Your Elder told me to accompany you,” she says, sitting close enough that Jiu can feel warmth from Ae’s skin, but no closer. “I would’ve followed you regardless, but it was nice of her to give me official orders.”

 

“Unbelievable.”

 

Ae grins. “You’ve been growing your hair out.”

 

Jiu fingers the stray hairs tickling her shoulders.  It’s still uneven from when she’d had a large majority of it sheared off during her time hostage, but it’s slowly growing back. Sometimes she will still have nightmares of the grimy dark and dirty fingers tugging at her hair. Sometimes she will wake and imagine clumps of her cut hair scattered over her blankets, writhing about like the rabid snakes from the south. “I had to keep it short during the war.”

 

“You Skyfolk do tend to have unmanageable hair when it’s long.” Ae agrees. “You have pretty thin hair, though.”

 

“My mother was from the sea.”

 

Before Jiu had moved to the mountain peaks, her mother would often take her diving for clams. Back at her lodgings at the peak, she still has a small box of the small pearls she’d managed to salvage from her mother’s broken necklace. She’d buried her mother at sea, and the grave and sodden ashes have probably long been washed away by now. It’s been years since she last visited the abandoned village; she fears that more of her nightmares will return if she does.

 

Ae always notices when she thinks of the past, but thankfully does not mention it this time. She’s actually rather subdued, it seems, from their conversation a few days before.

 

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Ae says vaguely, eyes lingering on Jiu’s hair as if she wants to reach out and touch it. In the past, perhaps, she would’ve done so, but Jiu has reacted violently, once, after cutting the majority of it off. “I always did think you were more Waterfolk than Skyfolk, but you’d never indulge me with the details.”

 

“We were soldiers at war,” Jiu reminds grimly.

 

“We are warriors, yes,” Ae replies. “But at war no longer. Are you still sleeping with the spell I made you?”

 

Guiltily, Jiu stares at the leaves above them. The spell had been a pretty little thing, white as dried bone, tinkling with magic that reminded her of the wind chimes the Desertfolk would use to ward away minor spirits. Jiu had kept it strung around her neck before—“I lost it.”

 

Ae frowns. “Why didn’t you ask me to make you another one?”

 

Jiu broods and stares at the leaves stubbornly, jaw tense and arms crossed. She hadn’t meant to lose the charm, but in her complications in the south, it had been taken away and dispelled. Oftentimes, she had considered asking Ae for another one but… It would make her seem weak, needy, and Jiu doesn’t want to appear that way to anyone, much less Ae.

 

 _I don’t need another one_ , Jiu considers saying, but she doesn’t deny that the charm had helped her during some especially bad storms. “We were far enough apart as is, and we were busy managing our respective units.”

 

Humming thoughtfully, Ae reaches out one hand slowly, slow enough so that Jiu can pull away if she wants to. For a moment she considers it, then lets her shoulders slump the smallest fraction. Gentle, calloused fingers sift through the hair brushing Jiu’s neck. Then she leans closer, and the desert warmth spills onto Jiu’s skin as Ae exhales, anxious.

 

“You’re really pretty,” Ae says, both hand and voice trembling.

 

Jiu sits very still, still staring above through the leaves at the sky. Ae is a colorful blur in her peripheral. “You’ve told me before.”

 

“I never told you much before,” Ae searches for her words, “before you were taken away.”

 

“You always were a terrible flirt. Seemed to have quite the fixation on me after we met, though,” Jiu adds, letting her gaze fall to the right to eye the gold pierced through Ae’s ears. She feels awfully exposed like this with fire magic lingering over her neck, Ae’s nervous pulse glittering in the sunlight a dead giveaway.

 

Then Ae leans back to take in a shuddering breath. Jiu quietly returns to staring at the leaves.

 

“When do you leave this village?” Ae sits demurely, unassumingly, fingers folded in her lap. The bone dagger at her hip seems to glow with resentment, longing.

 

“Tomorrow morning,” Jiu answers, and together they sit in silence until the moon sets the brook and stones awash with silver.

 

 

*

 

 

The desert, for all Ae describes as a nurturing mother, is still far too hot for Jiu’s liking. The dry air she can adjust to, but the intensity of the sun is difficult to cope with since there are no clouds and trees to offer cover. After trekking through the rest of the forest and crossing the deep ravine that separates most of the Desertfolk from the forests and mountains, Jiu finds herself looking across a vast expanse of winding golden sands.

 

She’s breathless at the sight, but the novelty of it quickly wears off when she remembers the damned heat. And the fact that she won’t be traveling on well-worn roads. Annoyed, she adjusts her travel pack and stretches her limbs.

 

“Feeling warm yet?” Ae asks, laughing at Jiu’s unamused glare. “This summer is pretty mild so far. No drought, either.”

 

“Many of the sages performed rites for rain.” Jiu steps onto the sand and grimaces when sand grinds beneath her heel. She would rather spend months traveling at sea than walk through all this desert, but flying won’t be an option for a while until the villages get their flight passages situated and mapped. “It’s reassuring to see their efforts have made such a positive impact throughout the lands.”

 

Ae walks in front, barefoot and confident with the sunlight glimmering magic over her dark skin. Her footprints are solid and leave Jiu a more manageable path through the sand.

 

“You can sing if you’d like,” Jiu says, slightly less irritable now that she has steadier footing (though she’d still prefer the sway of waves over this sweltering nonsense). She knows that Ae likes to sing her folk songs when traveling, and if it’ll lessen the tension between them as they travel, she’ll bear with the strange tongues that remind her of the past.

 

“You won’t mind?” Ae asks, but her voice is already drifting into a lilt, and she smiles into the melody when Jiu nods.

 

The quavering notes remind Jiu of when they’d first met, years before the war: a muddy trail, thunder rumbling overhead, rain cold and harsh even through Jiu’s warm robes. Sad and fragile song filtering through the night rain. Ebony skin, garments too bright for the mountains, eyes like the fires that the clouds reflect at sunset.

 

 _Are you cold_ , Jiu had asked, offering her robe, rain on her skin like oceanspray.

 

 _It’s cold._ Hesitant whispers. _I’m cold._

 

“Won’t the villagers be suspicious if they see you returning with me?” Jiu looks to the side, eyeing the small critters that take shelter behind occasional rocks. She drinks from her water skin, glad that she doesn’t burn like many of the Skyfolk she knows. “No one knows of your return except for my village.”

 

“I’ll keep out of the way,” Ae returns, twirling gracefully before coming to a rest. Jiu walks into her and ends up with a mouthful of black hair. “Once we get close enough to the border village, you should be familiar enough with the maps to get yourself to the capital.”

 

Jiu backs up and looks at the sky. “It’s another day or two to the nearest village.”

 

“That it is,” Ae confirms, seeming incredibly pleased with the knowledge that they’ll be alone for another day or so. “And the desert gets very cold at night.”

 

“We have our individual bedrolls,” Jiu deadpans, following Ae’s footprints as Ae laughs and continues to sing old battle tales and of archaic civilizations.

 

Over the sunlit dunes, her dancing shadow flickers like inverted candlelight.

 

 

*

 

 

After trekking through the outer villages, Jiu reaches the towering gates of the desert capital. They are just as foreboding as they’d been all those years ago, looming overhead and glowing like the telling bones of psychics. Her hair is sticking to the back of her neck, and had she not gotten used to the sand under her feet during her journey here, she’s sure she would have made a fool out of herself walking towards the guards. They eye her warily as she rummages through her pack to pull out her talisman.

 

“I am Jiu from the North,” she says, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw. Jiu knows that she can cut an imposing figure with her broad shoulders and her mismatched eyes, skin dark enough to set her apart from true Skyfolk.

 

One of the guards trots forward from their post to inspect the talisman in her hands. When touched, it sparks with deep water magic that she herself cannot control, but is indicative enough of her position. Another relic from her mother who was lost to the oceans long ago. She wonders, sometimes, if she will ever meet her mother’s spirit at sea.

 

“Jiu of the North?” the guard repeats, a little less warily. Her talisman is genuine, and it would be nigh impossible to forge a realistic copy. Water magic is rare nowadays.

 

Nodding curtly, Jiu lowers her arm. “I’ve come to discuss matters with your Elder. You’ve already received word that I would be visiting.”

 

“We have.” The guard steps aside to usher her towards the gate. “At the very least, we’d assumed you would bring an escort or two with you.”

 

Jiu smiles thinly and follows. “We are not at war, anymore. It would be wrong of me to set the wrong example for others who plan to travel and negotiate peace.”

 

The gates open with little sound, sweeping inwards in measured arcs to reveal the city within. Awestriking pillars of fire spit white ember and fade into the sky. Unlike the villages in the mountains, the buildings are vivid with color, and Jiu’s eye settles over the warm and bright Desertfolk dress, the intricate patterns that mimic the desert sands.

 

In the background, she can hear the low thrum of massive drums, like a heartbeat.

 

The sun is too bright.

 

“It must have been a long journey here,” the guard says, weaving through the streets with a grace and familiarity that Jiu has come to associate with the sway in Ae’s hips. “Our Elder has told us to let you rest at our best accommodations. While the oasis at the inn hasn’t been restored all the way, it should still provide some reprieve from the heat.”

 

“I truly appreciate it. Would it be safe to assume your Elder wishes to speak with me in the late evening?”

 

“She will be in some meetings for another few hours.” The guard turns to open one door and gesture towards the mana-lit entryway. “Until then, please make yourself comfortable here.”

 

Jiu steps into the room carefully, slipping out of her footwear and wincing at the sand plastered to her skin. The door closes behind her and shuts with a gentle noise, leaving her to the quiet rest the lodgings have to offer. Around her are great tapestries, shimmering with residual magic and sunlight. Towards the south eastern corner, a small oasis extends out of the room and underneath and past the stone walls. If Jiu doesn’t think too hard about it, she could mistake the tranquil waters for a small oceanside.

 

She makes quick work of her sweaty clothing, peeling it from her skin and dropping them into a messy pile near the water. One step in, and the chill welcomes her eagerly. She sinks in the rest of the way until her bare thighs meet smooth stone. Mana nips at her numb fingertips.

 

Ae sneaks into the room sometime later. Or perhaps she had been there the entire time, watching Jiu strip off her garments in silence. Jiu is too tired to give it much mind.

 

“The water’s always done good for you,” Ae whispers, eyes twinkling as she runs a finger down the polished stone, in circles, not quite daring to let her touch wander too close to exposed flesh.

 

“You really shouldn’t be here,” Jiu frowns and sits up. “What will you do if someone spots you?”

 

“These are your private quarters.” Ae glances back at the rest of the room, then back to the water lapping at Jiu’s neck. “No one would dare intrude on a dear guest of the Elder’s. Except the Elder herself, of course. And me.”

 

Jiu’s frown deepens.

 

“I’ll behave myself,” Ae adds and casually slides her feet into the water. “You’re short-tempered whenever the weather is hot, so I won’t be pulling any tricks on you.”

 

Jiu leans back again, sinking even lower this time. Her face is barely above the surface. “Tien said you’d try bewitching me again.”

 

“Well,” Ae says lightly, kicks at the water. “You never did fall for me the first time, or the second.”

 

“You tried bewitching Tien, too.”

 

“Yes, well.” Ae grumbles and ducks her pretty head to stare at her legs. “He’s too devoted to Hiin, so that didn’t exactly work, either.”

 

For a few long moments, the only sound Jiu can hear is the water lapping at her skin, soothing, lulling. Much better than the unforgiving sand beneath her feet and the sun bearing down on her. If Jiu had had more actual affinity with magic, she might’ve tried creating all those shapes with the water like Ae does with fire.

 

But she doesn’t, so Jiu sits idly on the cool stone, feeling awfully naked even though Ae isn’t necessarily staring at her.

 

“I should probably get changed.” Jiu turns her head slightly so she can see Ae with her working eye. “If things go well, I’ll only be here for a few days before heading back.”

 

“I’ll wash your hair before I go, then,” Ae says, and her voice offers no room for negotiation. “You should look your best before the Elder, shouldn’t you?”

 

Jiu opens her mouth, closes it, then sighs so she falls deeper. Through the water, Ae’s face is dark and indeterminable. For a bit more, Jiu stays immersed, and only comes up once her lungs start burning for air.

 

“Fine,” she says, hair dripping and heavy against her skin. At the very least, Ae can be tender when she wants to be, so Jiu trusts that nothing absurd will be done to her hair. She’s not familiar with the shampoos and other magic-laced goods that the Desertfolk use anyways. “Just. Don’t spend too much time on it.”

 

 

*

 

 

In comparison to some of the other Elders that Jiu has seen, the Elder of the desert is remarkably spry even with her great age. She’s certainly not the tallest individual that Jiu has seen, and seeing the Elder walk towards her would be almost comical if Jiu weren’t intimidated by the unexpected energy.

 

“I’m glad you seem to be in excellent health,” she says mechanically, unsure of how to react to the Elder’s probing gaze.

 

“You’re from the mountains?” the Elder asks.

 

Jiu hesitates. “I… grew up in the mountains. My mother is Waterfolk.”

 

“Is that so,” the Elder hums, then she smiles brightly. “I’d thought something was strange since you don’t have the eyes that Skyfolk do. But I can see the Waterfolk in you, yes.” She gestures to the nearby chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

 

“Our Elder sends apologies that she can’t visit you personally,” Jiu finds herself saying automatically. “Unfortunately, this war has taken quite the toll on her health.”

 

“She worked hard to protect us here,” the Elder replies. “For that, we are immensely thankful. While I was never there to personally witness your battles, I’ve been told you are a mighty warrior.”

 

Jiu bows her head respectfully, a little embarrassed. Fortunately, the Elder of the Desertfolk is agreeable and her friendliness makes the process of discussing terms and alliances makes the entire meeting flow much smoother than Jiu had expected. She’s still unused to desert cuisine, and the cookies she’d been offered still linger with a strange aftertaste on her tongue. The tea, at least, has a nice hint of spice, glittering with gold like many of the things here. Even the flavors are strong and vivid, vastly different from the serenity and calm she has learned in the mountains, so close to the sky.

 

“Ae has mentioned before,” the Elder says, and Jiu flinches in her seat at the name, “that she knew someone who would get terrible consuming dreams, especially after the war.”

 

“We joined forces for a few battles,” Jiu responds warily, “As far as I’m aware, Ae has not been seen since awhile after the wars ended.”

 

The Elder seems to see right through her lie, however, for she merely smiles and pushes a small object across the table. “Try and hide dear Ae might, but her mana still has quite the presence; we’ve known of her return for a while now. She is always welcome here, but if she must first find her Self through another, we will patiently await her return.”

 

Jiu holds the spell tightly in her hands, already feeling the bad memories fading. The mana imbued throughout the spell is very familiar and yet not—but the relief that comes from the magic is very _real_.

 

“I understand my interpretation of the spell may not be as strong for you as hers is,” continues the Elder. “But until you trust her enough to ask for another, please make do with this. After what you’ve done for her, this is the least I can do.”

 

Overcome with emotion, Jiu presses the spell to her chest and sits in silence. The Elder pours her another cup of tea and waits.

 

 

*

 

 

“I never expected them to already know I’d come back,” Ae mopes as they trudge up the stone steps, climbing higher and higher, closer and closer to the skies Jiu calls her home. “So I’ve been avoiding them for nothing?”

 

“I’m rather insensitive to most magic,” Jiu says. “So you shouldn’t have have relied on my reactions to your attempts at masking your mana.”

 

“It’s the main reason I can’t bewitch you.” Ae sighs wistfully. Jiu readily catches her when Ae slips on a particular rock that they still haven’t replaced. Despite the cold air, her skin is still very warm. “And the fact you’re so _serious_ about everything.”

 

Jiu sets Ae down and glides past, eager to return to the clouds and feel more at ease. The people in the southern villages had been nice, but the desert itself is still not to her personal tastes. She’s tired from waking up to endless sands and sunlight, misses Hiin’s cooking and the subdued atmosphere of the sky villages at dusk. Once she drops her belongings off at her home, Jiu is going to find one of the lakes that are still frozen and take a long soak beneath the ice.

 

“You don’t need to follow me here,” Jiu says vaguely. “You don’t like the cold, and the Desertfolk already know you’ve returned.”

 

“You’re still mad at me for killing your scouts.”

 

Jiu watches Ae from the corner of her eye, impassive, then turns her gaze back to the path. “So it would seem.”

 

Breathless from the higher altitude, Ae reaches out to grab Jiu’s wrist and closes her eyes. Fire magic brims at her fingertips, warm and pleasant. Even up here, nearing the clouds, her body retains the wondrous heat of the desert sands. “I’m sorry.”

 

Jiu makes her wait until the silence edges on disappointment. Then, tapping her fingers on Ae’s hand, she pulls away and resumes hiking up the path.

 

“You will train our younger mages.” At Ae’s surprised expression, Jiu gives a small smile. “Until you find proper lodgings, I suppose, you will be permitted to stay at my place.”

 

Towards the sky gates, together they step over the cold stones, Ae’s golden mana glowing like sunlight through the fog.

 

 

*


End file.
